Eifersucht
by Avril D.C
Summary: Post-WW2. When Prussia meets Belarus, he figures out a plan that might just make everyone happy again. Prussia/Belarus for the purpose of making Russia and Hungary jealous.
1. Chapter 1

Ivan looked down at him with a menacing hatred, a twinge of contempt, and a smirk of delight. It had never been secret; the fact that he had a taste for macabre and murderous hobbies, but Gilbert never imagined himself on the receiving end of the Russian's torture. In a large dark room, a bright orange fire blazed in the hearth, its warm flickering light illuminated the crude brick walls of the cellar and gleamed off the many instruments hanging on the walls. A small cot was wedged into the far corner and by the door was a large wooden cupboard.

Taking the long leather whip from the pile of Gilbert's belongings on the table, Ivan stood over his victim with a gleam of malice in his eyes and that horribly twisted smile. Gilbert's eyes fluttered closed as Ivan's hand flew above his head. He clenched his teeth in anticipation of the cutting blow, it should've come by now.

Gilbert let his breath go and slowly looked up, that was when the weapon finally came down. Ivan had been waiting for that millisecond of doubt, only to reinforce his punishment twice as effectively. The thin braid of leather slashed at Gilbert's arms and shoulders, his hands were bound behind his back. He wished he still had the protection of his black wool coat but it lay on the table with his other effects.

It was another four strikes before Ivan feigned a yawn, tossing the whip aside. He sat down in a wooden chair at the table, poking through the things he had confiscated but not yet investigated. Gilbert bit his lip, holding back tears of pain and frustration; he had been praying that Ivan would speak even once during the past countless hours he had spent torturing him. He had surrendered, he had lost his brother, he had been abolished as a nation, and yet Ivan had not said even one word to him since they arrived back in Moscow.

"What the fuck… do you want from me?" Gilbert sighed, faintly growling. He shifted in his restraints; thick rope bound his arms behind his back and two shackles on his ankles kept him close to the wall. Kneeling on the hard dirt floor of the basement, he still wore his black wool breeches and tall leather boots. His ghostly pale skin was covered in bruises and blood dripped from a number of gashes he couldn't count.

"You don't want information? You don't want me to beg for my life?" Gilbert leaned forward; he knew the Russian was listening, even though he didn't look up. Ivan continued to pick through the pile on the table, he unbuttoned the pockets of Gilbert's jacket and found a piece of folded paper but he didn't seem interested in reading it.

"You fucking sadist, you're no different from me. No better than me! I'll never be a fucking Commie like you. You and your whole damned country can go to hell." Gilbert then broke out into a rather loud version of the German national anthem, his eyes never leaving the Russian's.

Ivan looked over at him as if he was bored, resting his chin in his propped up hand. It was at that time he began opening the paper he had found earlier, and Gilbert stopped singing to protest.

"Don't fucking ignore me!"

Ivan continued to ignore him. He was unimpressed by the paper, as it was written in German and he didn't understand all the words.

"So then what does this accomplish?" A sneer pulled at Gilbert's lips as he switched to taunting. "Or are you just getting off on it?"

At those last words, Ivan leapt to his feet and was standing in front of Gilbert in two long strides. With his right hand he gripped Gilbert's head and pulled him forward. His cheek smacked against the Russian's muscular thigh, and he heard a deep chuckle from above. Ivan widened his stance, sliding Gilbert's cheek against a semi-hard swelling.

"I like to hear you yell." Ivan almost growled with desire. Gilbert's eyes were wide as his mind raced, what did he just get himself into? He gulped a mouthful of saliva audibly and the Russian pulsed against his cheek.

"Spokoĭnoĭ nochi, Gilbert."

At first, Gilbert had no idea what that meant, preparing for the worst he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes and looked back up, Ivan was gone. He looked around, making sure he wasn't sitting down or standing behind him. The room was empty and he finally let out his breath; panting and rocking on his knees as tears came to his eyes.

He heard Ivan's voice echoing from upstairs, and then came the soft footsteps of someone else on the wooden staircase. Gilbert sat back on his feet; making one last attempt to wriggle free of the ropes before his new master arrived, but it was to no avail.

In the doorway stood a young woman about his brother's age, she wore a beautiful purple dress with a white apron. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders and her bangs framed her face, her expression as hard as steel.

"Well, a gute nacht to you, Fraulein." Gilbert smirked and attempted to bow at the waist but found it too painful to bend very much. He straightened and watched as the woman silently entered the room and went over to the table.

She shook out his uniform shirt and placed it on a hanger she had brought down with her, next his black tie was wound around the hook. Placing the paper back into a pocket in his jacket, it went on the hanger too. His belt, hat, and pistol she left on the table untouched.

"Does nobody in this damned Commie country know how to have a fucking conversation?" He muttered to himself, but she turned to face him.

"Do not be confused, prisoner, I am not a Russian." Her voice was monotone, although her accent sounded very Russian.

"Well what are you then, one of us or one of them?" Gilbert's words were selectively emphasized.

"I am Belorussia of the USSR. Natasha Alfroskaya."

"Ahh, right, should've known it'd be nothing but Commie bastards up here." Gilbert's eyes went to the floor but then he looked up again to watch for her reaction.

Natasha shot him a glare as she poured a glass of water.

"Oh, and bitches too." Gilbert nearly giggled at his own wit but settled on a wicked grin of accomplishment as her eyes narrowed further.

Now the Belorussian was gliding over towards him with her own look of malice.

"It will do you no good." She hissed.

Gilbert was going to provoke her again but she was reaching down to untie him and he thought it best not to interrupt, lest he be left in chains all night. Natasha undid the knots and coiled the rope onto a hook on the wall as Gilbert shook out his arms.

"What are you doing working for that asshole anyway? You must've known we were going to win either way, right?" Gilbert was still somewhat in denial about the war.

"He's my brother." She still spoke in monotone as she opened the cupboard to get him some bread and a tin of preserved fish.

Gilbert nodded his head with a look of concern, suddenly he found himself without words. All he could do was remember his own brother, and how pitiful they both had looked in their political hearings as if they were spoiled goods up on the auctioning block in front of the invading forces. He was jarred from his thoughts by the sound of the clinking chains as Natasha unlocked his shackles.

"You must've had no choice, right?" Although he was freed, he still knelt on the floor. "You were probably dragged into all this."

"I would follow my brother to the ends of the Earth."

Tears once again rose to Gilbert's eyes as he was reminded of Ludwig. For he had taught his brother everything he knew, paving the way for the time when his younger sibling would succeed his leadership in Europe and become a separate nation. In reality, he and his brother were merged in quite a sloppy and unofficial way, and the Kingdom of Prussia was all but forgotten, considered only a larger part of German history. Yet hardly anyone noticed that Gilbert held no disdain against Ludwig for this, he knew it was not done on purpose, but rather the work of their respective bosses in their wild quests for power over other European countries.

Natasha set down the meager rations on the table, silently beckoning him to come sit and eat. She stood awkwardly between the table and the fireplace until he finally stirred from his thoughts.

"I swear if that fucking bastard does anything like this to West I'm going to…" Gilbert's teeth clenched as his mind seethed, searching for new insults.

Natasha came around the table and pushed him down into one of the chairs.

"Eat."

"Yes ma'am." He said as sarcastically as he could muster. Now that the adrenaline in his system had dissipated, he was finding it hard to hold it together. He took a large sip of water from the glass and then broke a piece of bread from the loaf, tearing off a smaller piece he let it dissolve on his tongue.

Natasha watched him closely as he glared blankly at the fire, slowly rolling around the pieces of bread and fish in his mouth without chewing.

"He will only be hard on you at first. There is much to do now; he won't have time to play with you." She quietly offered her advice, not knowing why she was being so kind.

"He's wrong if he thinks he will succeed. Herr Hitler has failed to spread National Socialist power over Europe, how could Stalin possibly think he could do the same with Communism?" Gilbert's gaze was still fixed on the fire.

Natasha didn't answer. She was already wrapped up in her own thoughts on the matter.

"If he thinks he can rule Europe with an army of lumbering ogres and old tanks then he's got another thing coming. You blame us for the killing of the Jewish vermin and yet you've killed so many more without any discrimination. You get off on torture and you're so deluded that you think these Soviet nations are your friends when really you're nothing but a big fucking bully." Gilbert must've thought he was speaking to Ivan himself.

"Shut up." Natasha said forcefully. "Do not talk of my brother this way."

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do? Go on and hit me with a frying pan, I've got to be immune by now!" Gilbert chuckled as he taunted her, taking a sip of water.

Suddenly, Natasha was kneeling on the table and choking him with both hands. She clenched so tight, that he was unable to swallow the water in his mouth; it began to trickle from his lips as she leaned into him.

"I will not tolerate your slander."

All he could see were her narrowed eyes as she pressed her face closer to his, trying to emphasize her disgust. In her violet colored eyes he put the pieces together; slowly he reached up a hand and touched her cheek, gently brushing his thumb over her soft lips.

Natasha instantly recoiled at his touch; she sat back on the table and leaned away from him almost in horror.

"I get it now." He smirked. "You're in love with him." Gilbert sat back in his chair, folding his arms and glaring back at her with a look of satisfaction, just waiting for her response.

She sat frozen; her eyes had gone from enraged slits to wide with shock. Her hand was drawn to her mouth, trying to rub off the touch of his fingers.

"Oh I am so right!" Gilbert chuckled to himself, watching her slowly dismount the table and sit silently in her chair. Then he was struck by another train of thought. "Hey, are you alright?"

Natasha nodded her head slightly, not looking him in the eye.

"He doesn't notice, huh? Yeah I've been there before." He sighed and sat forward, trying to get a lower perspective on her face to watch her expressions. "You could always just get him really drunk and jump him."

Her expression changed to something like remorse.

"You already tried? Well I agree, vodka is some strong shit. I wouldn't remember the day after either."

"I couldn't do it. Looking at him, passed out, I wanted it to be…" Her faint voice trailed off, leaving him with a good impression of her attempt.

"You wanted it to be special. You want him to want you back." Gilbert thought of putting his hand on her shoulder to reassure her, but remembering her reaction from his first touch and her hidden strength he decided against it. That was, however, when his mind began forming a brilliant idea.


	2. Chapter 2

Gilbert pulled a short silvery hair from his no-longer-white uniform shirt and silently wondered if it was Ivan's or his own. For a moment, he let himself believe that it belonged to his brother, at least then he would still have that small piece of him to hold on to.

"Even since we were little, I only wanted Ivan to pay attention to me." Natasha wrung her hands, nervously twiddling her thumbs as she found herself pouring out all of her emotions. Sitting and staring at the floor uncomfortably, she bit her lip in an attempt to silence herself.

Gilbert nodded and mumbled; he was at least half listening. His mind went back to work on finalizing the brilliant plan coming together in his mind.

"It's not as if he doesn't notice. It's like he wants nothing to do with me, as if I am repulsive." Her tongue was much looser now that someone had finally unlocked her inner voice. "I don't know what to do."

"I do." Gilbert sat back in his chair with a contented all-knowing look.

"You do? What then?" Natasha was slightly surprised that he had been listening to her, little did she know of Gilbert's talent to bullshit his way through many situations.

"Make him jealous." Gilbert nodded, reinforcing his statement.

"How would I do that?" Natasha cocked her head with a worried brow. She seemed genuinely ignorant to the intricacies of courtship so Gilbert decided to indulge her. Of course, it would benefit him in the end as well.

"I have a plan." Gilbert leaned in, hushing his voice a bit for an added effect.

Natasha furrowed her brow again, more so in a skeptical way than a curious way.

"You and I need to make it appear as if we're in love, he'll be so fucking jealous he'll want you to be his for sure!" Gilbert smirked in a know-it-all way, certain she would jump at the idea.

When her response was silence, he quickly spun some new sentences.

"Think about it, he probably hates me more than any other nation in the world right now, who better to be stealing his sister away from him?" Gilbert widened his eyes, prompting for a verbal reply.

"No." Natasha crossed her arms.

"Ouch. Come on, I said _appear_ as if we're in love. I'm not asking you to switch sides in the war or anything. All you have to do is talk about me a lot, and smile when someone talks about me, and come down here a lot and stuff like that. Make him notice that you like me and that he's no longer in your mind. Once he realizes you've forgotten about him, it'll kick in and he'll do anything to have you."

"I guess." She shrugged, curling her upper lip in disgust. The type of girly, bubbly behavior Gilbert was referring too was not one of her attributes. Silently, she wondered if the abrupt change in personality would look fake to Ivan's eyes.

"Then once you two are happy on your way, you'll tell him to let me go. Do we have a deal?" Gilbert watched as Natasha pursed her lips in thought, there was nothing to lose but a little time and effort.

"Deal."

"Ja wohl!" Gilbert punched the air. "Phase one," he said as he stood up and held out his hand to her, "We need to get you acting like you really do like me."

Natasha looked unsure as she took his hand and he helped her to her feet before sweeping her up in a gentle kiss. She immediately pushed him back, several feet across the floor as a matter of fact.

"What did I do?" Gilbert acted hurt.

Natasha glared, ready to start choking him to death again at any minute.

"You need to loosen up. If you go back up there all silent and gloomy then nothing will change." He held out his hand to her again, making it her choice this time.

Her hand hovered in mid-reach before she took his hand again and Gilbert pulled her close against him. Perhaps she was just imagining things, but he seemed more serious this time. His smirk had faded as he looked down into her eyes and she looked back up into his intense scarlet ones before they closed. His lips met hers again, more passionate than the first time. Slowly he slid his lips between hers, making her relax into his kiss. He began to push his tongue out, testing to see if she would allow him access.

A moment of doubt clouded her mind, but she let him in, knowing it would be for the best. Letting him probe her mouth with his tongue, she felt her heart speed up and she wanted to hold onto him tighter. Suddenly he withdrew and began kissing her ear, licking and sucking at it. Pulling her collar down, he continued licking and sucking at the skin of her neck, until he was sure that he had left a mark. Then he ripped off the top two buttons of her dress to break the collar open.

Natasha pushed him back again, not quite as far, but she had had enough.

"Don't be mad, it's all for the greater good." He smiled genuinely.

She hissed at him as she rubbed his kisses off her ear, not wanting to admit that she had enjoyed it up to the moment that she realized it wasn't Ivan she was embracing.

"Now go back upstairs and make sure he sees you." Gilbert's mouth twitched into a quick smile before she turned and did just that without another word. He let out a sigh of relief, more than happy that he had survived his first day under Soviet control. It had been some time since his last decent make out session, and it was a welcome end to a long night of tense uncertainty.

Flopping down on the old cot in the corner, he pulled the thin blanket over himself and resigned his mind to good memories until he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Gilbert awoke to the soft glowing light coming from the window above his head. Still trying to hold onto the images from his dream, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.<p>

As his wonderful dream of a battle victory started to replay, he started to notice a feeling in his chest. He crawled forward, reaching for the rifle of a soldier who lay dead a few feet away, his chest tightened and he fell just inches short of the gun. Forcing himself to continue as dust clouded the area from an enemy cannon, he finally pried the weapon from the soldier's hands. With his lungs slowly losing function, he caught his breath as he brought himself to his knees to fire. Planting the butt of the gun at the junction of his shoulder, he held down the trigger until he couldn't breathe anymore.

Suddenly, with a desperate gasp for air, he awoke. His body jolted to upright itself but he found he was paralyzed.

Natasha's blonde hair and dark eyes dominated the scope of his vision, his head jerked back as his sleepy mind finally comprehended the two worlds as separate.

"Guten morgen." He wheezed, only then wondering why she chose to straddle his chest.

"Добрай раніцы, Прусіі."

"Gesundheit." Gilbert joked, sarcastically hinting that he didn't understand any Russian.

Natasha leaned back, finally letting Gilbert see that there was still a room around them. She nonchalantly scratched at the plaster on the wall with her finger, almost as if waiting for Gilbert to ask her something.

"So, how's that brute Ivan doing?" Gilbert knew she wouldn't move until he got her talking and wasted no time, bringing up the only subject of conversation they had in common.

"I don't know if he noticed." Natasha kept her eyes on the spot she was picking at.

"Well, did you see him after you left my room?" If Ivan could only hear Gilbert proclaiming his possession of the room, he would be in trouble. Natasha picked up on it, but it was trivial in comparison to their plan.

"Yes." A chip of beige plaster flew off the wall.

"Did he see you?" Gilbert wiggled his fingers to make sure his arms were still there. They were.

"Yes." Natasha turned her eyes back down to Gilbert's, trying to form into words what she thought Ivan might've been thinking when he saw her dress ripped open.

"Did he say anything?" Gilbert momentarily worried if Ivan would be vengeful against him, rather than try to win Natasha's affections. He could only hope things wouldn't turn out like that.

"He asked what happened to my dress." Natasha didn't have to wait long for Gilbert to make some silent gesture for her to continue. It was his wide-eyed look again, those strikingly bright red eyes. She her eyes back to the plaster that was crumbling from the wall beneath her fingers. "I-I didn't know what to say, so I told him not to worry about it."

"Ugh!" Gilbert let his head fall back to the pillow, if a hand was free to smack his forehead for effect, he would've done so. He looked back up at her, catching her slightly curious look. "Okay, I guess you didn't totally screw it up. Acting sneaky at first is a good thing; it'll get him thinking that something's going on even if he doesn't know what yet."

Natasha nodded slowly, sort of understanding. She swung her leg over his head and sunk down, now sitting next to him instead of on top of him.

"But you really need to start, I dunno, smiling more or something at least, like we talked about before." Gilbert sat up, glancing at the small hole she had scratched into the wall.

"It's not who I am." Her gaze was on the floor.

"Well obviously he doesn't want you the way you are." Gilbert stopped himself, realizing how cruel that had sounded.

Natasha stared blankly, it was a harsh reality.

Letting out a sigh of remorse, he tilted his head up to watch the overcast sky through the window. Perhaps he was simply annoyed at being woken up early after a night of torture, he still wanted to go back into his dreams and escape back to Germany. Admitting to himself that he was frustrated, he endeavored to steer the conversation into more productive waters.

"Do you mean to tell me you've never once in your life smiled? Do you even know what a smile is?" Gilbert tried not to get heated again; he was beginning to map out how much time and effort this could potentially take.

"Of course I know what a smile is, foolish brat." She glanced sideways at him to reinforce her insult.

"Then show me." Gilbert crossed his arms, still tingling a bit as the feeling was returning to his fingers.

Natasha took a few breaths, her face twitching, her gaze still on the floor. Slowly she turned her head to face him, the corners of her mouth were drawn back but it was far from what any normal person would call a smile.

"Mein Gott, woman! Put that shit away!" Gilbert shielded his eyes until he was sure she had stopped. "Ugh, alright, there's got to be a better way to do this." He thought about kissing her again, but she hadn't been to keen on that the first time, so he decided against it. He held his chin on his propped up arm, staring at her averted eyes for ideas.

"What makes you happy?" Natasha asked randomly, wanting to compare his answer with her own values.

"Lots of stuff, but this isn't about me, this is about you." He shifted off his propped arm and sat up to join her on the edge of the bed. "When was the last time you smiled, the last time you were really happy about something?"

"I don't remember."

"Well, Ivan makes you happy, doesn't he? Do you ever find yourself feeling happy or wanting to smile when you see him?" His guesses were running on fumes, trying to scrape together something to work with.

"Yes." Natasha said after a long pause. Gilbert guessed that she had probably never admitted it before.

"Close your eyes." He commanded softly.

"What are you going to do?" She glanced sideways at him through her hair.

"Just trust me." He smiled, she complied. "Now, I want you to think of him. Very clearly in your head, I want you to imagine him standing before you.

He watched her face scrunch, as if it took a lot of effort.

"Just relax and imagine a place where there's only him; a beautiful, light, warm place."

Her expression relaxed but her fingers gripped the edge of the mattress a bit.

"Now, I want you to imagine him smiling, make him look like the happiest you've ever seen him. Are you happy when he's happy?"

Natasha nodded, barely squeaking out a noise.

"Imagine him opening up his arms, waiting for you to step into them, wanting you close for him to hold. Hear him speak your name."

Gradually her lips began to pull and a sweet little smile appeared on her face.

"See? Now was that so hard?" He smirked, nudging her shoulder with his own.

Her grin remained even as she opened her eyes and glanced at him. She silently admitted to herself that it felt good to be able do that again.


End file.
